The Grass of Goldenrod
by HebrewWarrior
Summary: An undercover police inspector investigates local drug problems in Goldenrod City.
1. Chapter 1

It was already getting dark when I arrived in Goldenrod on the Magnet Train. It wasn't that late, but the dirty smog made the city seem darker than it should be. I was already longing for a hot shower and a warm meal, but I knew the chances of that were slim. Fortunately, I had some bread and a tin of Magikarp paste to keep me going in my kitbag. Magikarp has got to be the most tasteless food in the entire Pokémon world, but it is cheap and undeniably an excellent source of protein. Let's face reality – it's just about the only thing that stupid fish is good for. I arrived at the small stone cottage next to the radio tower in short order and stepped inside. Whoever decided to put a stone cottage in the middle of a city was clearly short a few marbles, and yet there are a fair number scattered throughout Goldenrod. I had rented this one on a very short term basis - a mere fortnight. I frowned at the empty fridge. It was to be Magikarp paste sandwiches tonight. I grimaced once again at the thought. Tomorrow I would get to work - I already suspected that these streets needed cleaning up in a much more fundamental way than the Environment Bureau had condemned Goldenrod for in the third year running. 

I woke up at 3am, the bed linen drenched with sweat. The dream was already fading away but I couldn't bring myself to clutch at what was left. It was obvious what it had been about and the sooner I forget about... that... the better, if I ever can. I knew I wouldn't get back to sleep, so I got up and splashed water onto my face from the sink. Demons of the past crowded my mind, but I pushed them back. I made myself some coffee and forced the boiling, bitter black liquid down my throat. It was a few hours before the sun rose. The sunlight streaming into the cottage made me want to draw the curtains, but I resisted the urge and decided to scout the area. 

The hot sun beat down on the dirty bricks of the main street of Goldenrod. The enormous Goldenrod Department Store - an uninventive name, I know - towered above every other building. Personally, I don't think that having a single skyscraper suddenly qualifies somewhere as being a city. I passed the Gambling Corner and turned my head in disgust. In most regions these places are rightly banned, but in the more backward Johto and Kanto regions, unfortunately, Pokémon slavery is alive and well thanks to these monuments to human cruelty in the search of money. 

I doubled back and headed for the Pokémon Gym. A Gym Leader is an authority figure and often has a close relationship with law enforcement officers such as myself and colleagues. I am somewhat unique in that I travel a lot in order to bring new light to drug-crimes that are often hidden or even encouraged by corrupt cops and greedy politicians. I have no home and no family. And no companions - I work alone. 

I pushed open the door and squinted in the blinding lights of the gym. Somehow it was even brighter than the midday sun. I cursed myself for not bringing sunglasses and resolved to spend as little time as possible in this over lit and under decorated hall. I grudgingly flashed my ID to each trainer as I passed them and lamented the habit of gym leaders to force the visitor to pass every single trainer in the gym in order to get to them. It made things awkward for me - I am supposed to be undercover. I knew that although Yitzhak - my one and only Pokémon, a Tepig - would be more than ready for a fight, we had more important business to deal with. I patted his pokeball at my belt in a silent promise to him for a few rounds of battle after we were done here. He is my only friend and I am sure he understands me even without verbal communication. We have a special connection. The meeting with Whitney was short - like her stature. She knew nothing of the illegal drug trade that I had a tip-off was going on practically under her nose and I sensed within the first minutes of the conversation that she was not responsible enough to help. I escaped the glare of the LEDs as soon as I could.


	2. Chapter 2

I averted my gaze as I passed the security post to the North of the city. The guard paid me no notice, which suited me, as I must presume that every cop is dirty and every pedestrian a secret drug dealer. It's the only way to safeguard my cover. The path leads to the National Park, in between Goldenrod and the historical city of Ecruteak. A historical city is one in which they spend a lot of money in order not to modernise it. I wouldn't wander that far, but the park seemed like the perfect place to let my beloved Yitzhak loose for a bit. I am quite obviously a trainer so it would be suspicious if I didn't battle a few people along the way, even if they are all overconfident teenagers.

One boy was desperate to show his buddies how tough he was and was eager to fight. I accepted with a curt nod and released Yitzhak from his pokèball. There are two reasons I chose to adopt Tepig and not Growlithe like every other police officer you will ever meet. The first is that I work almost exclusively undercover, disguised as a regular trainer. The second is that I really don't like Growlithe. In Johto, such exotic pokèmon as Tepig are seldom if ever owned by trainers, though Tepig in particular are rarely seen even where I come from. His pokèmon of choice was Machop, which was preparing a karate chop when Yitzhak roasted him with a flame thrower. I didn't let him go all out, but it did win the battle a matter of seconds after it had started. Tepig's natural agility is often a boon in battles, but my Tepig has a carefully selected move-set that was achieved through hard training, selective breeding and expensive TMs.

I sat on a bench in the park and Yitzhak snuggled up to me on my lap. I laid a hand on him absent-mindedly. A few teens climbed a fence and disappeared into the trees. I sighed and pushed myself up. I reminded myself that I was chasing after people half my age for the greater good and ignored my aching back. I started after them far enough back that they didn't see me. I rolled my eyes at their sloppiness - they didn't even leave anyone behind to check for nosey adults like myself. Yitzhak was by my heels. He knows when to be quiet.

Like much of the city, the National Park was littered with cigarette packets, cigarette butts, food wrappers and other assorted trash that trainers threw away without a thought as to whether or not it was biodegradable. The local authorities, like most of their kind in Johto, are constantly strapped for cash and have neither the funds nor the political will to invest in cleaning the City or the adjacent park. It was hard to miss the stench of cannabis and urine hanging in the air, making me want to hold my breath. I took a few more steps and took out my camera. Another step and something splintered underfoot. A syringe. These kids were in deeper than I thought.

I leaned around the corner. A group of teens were smoking cannabis and chatting amongst themselves. One or two of them could be as young as 13. I photographed them from a distance. I could later blow up the photos and identify everyone. I looked a little longer and took a few more photos and then I saw what I had been hoping for. A young man in his early twenties, an uneven beard hung on his face, his unwashed hair a mess of grease and grime, was exchanging small plastic bags of weed for money. He was taking wads of several thousand pokédollars for each bag. This isn't actually such a large amount, it is simply that inflation is very high. I had found the dealer. I photographed him and slipped away unnoticed, a haze of marijuana surrounded the teens as if a Koffing had launched its smog attack.


End file.
